


In or Out, Dean?

by Elizabeth1985



Series: Destiel Ficlets [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, I Love You, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 14:01:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3612654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elizabeth1985/pseuds/Elizabeth1985
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The future is looking fairly bleak. But Dean's not ready to let that stop him from enjoying a solo kind of night. Unfortunately, there's a former angel sleeping in his bed. Cas has his reasons of course, and soon Dean will be faced with the question he's been avoiding for years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In or Out, Dean?

**Author's Note:**

> From my tumblr.

They’re all tired. Exhausted, actually. It’s been two weeks of endless driving searching for anything that’ll help them. But after all that, what’ve they got? Fuckin’ shit all, that’s what. 

That raised brand on his arm?  Yeah, still there. Cas’ diminishing angelic life? Still diminishing. 

“Fuck!” growls Dean as he throws a book from the table at the wall behind Sam’s head. 

Sam doesn’t react much, given the state of their lives it would take more than a soaring book to startle the guy. He does, however, raise an eyebrow. “Getting’ fed up, huh?”

Dean irritably scoffs, “Gee, ya think Sammy?”

“Hey, look, we still have time.” There’s only one problem that’s date-stamped and its the one he hates to think about. For a number of reasons, he feels guilty.

“Not much,” mutters Dean under his breath. Just then, Cas strolls into the library with mug of something lighter than coffee. A spicy tea, maybe. Guy’s quirky that way.

“What are you both talking about?” asks Cas.

“Nothing,” they say together. There’s no point in the discussion anyhow. 

For the next thirty minutes Cas sips his tea, Sam reads, and Dean scours the internet for porn to watch in bed later with the screen pointedly turned away from his brother and Cas. It’s been a while and he thinks he could do with some kind of release. 

“Are you going to bed soon?” Castiel asks, having finished off his aromatic tea.

Sam grunts noncommittally, his focus still drawn to the book below his face. Dean, on the other hand, is all about bed-time. 

“Yeah, I’m gonna hit up the shower first. You good?” 

Cas nods and gets up, heading towards the kitchen. 

In the shower, Dean ponders the various videos he plans to watch to get off to. All the stress lately has been really doing a number on his libido. As luck would have it, being as tired as he is, means he’s too beat to think much, or worry too excessively. Instead, he’s just sluggish enough to know the feel of his own hand is gonna be the perfect send-off into dreamland.  

Towelling off, Dean heads back to his room in boxers and a t-shirt. When he opens the door, he barely notices the room itself and trudges to his closet to dump his dirty clothes in the pile he’s already amassed. It’s when he spins on his heel and finally settles his eyes on the bed that he realizes there’s already a body in it. 

What the hell? “Uhh, Cas?”

No response. Dean moves in to take a closer look, not sure what he’s expecting here. The mess of dark hair is spiking up over the pillow, the soft lids are lowered and relaxed. Perpetually chapped lips are parted, his breathing even as can be. 

Why Cas is sleeping in his bed is anybody’s guess. Of course, he considers the one scenario—given that slipping into someone else’s bed is usually pretty self-explanatory. Then again, if Cas had come into his room for… _that_ , Dean expects the guy would’ve at least stayed awake to follow through. Not that Dean _wants_  the follow through. That’s what he tells himself anyway.

Does he move the guy? Scrunching his nose, Dean stares a while longer and he decides Cas needs the sleep, and that he looks too damn peaceful to disrupt. 

But _my_ bed, Dean wants to protest. Where is _he_ supposed to sleep now? There are other rooms, sure. Actually, there is the room just down the hall that Cas should be in, though clearly that’s not where he’s decided to spend the night.

But _my_ memory foam mattress? 

Ugh…  _my_ porn, Dean groans softly.

“Screw this.” Dean marches around the end of the bed and gets in. “My fucking bed, I can sleep here if I want to,” whispers Dean snidely to himself. 

Later that night, Dean’s awoken by violent movement beside him. The first thing he does is whip out his knife from under his pillow and swiftly twist on the bed towards the offending action. 

His breathing halts the second Cas’ face registers in his mind. Lowering the knife, he curses. “Fuck, Cas—What the hell?”

“I had a nightmare. My apologies Dean.”

Relieved that’s all it is, he’s about to lay back down and fall asleep when he realizes it’s as good as time as any to ask the guy why he’s sleeping in Dean’s bed. 

The words aren’t even out before Cas stops him with a single look. “I know what you’re about to ask Dean, and the truth is… I’ve missed you.”

“Okay, uh, well I missed you too, buddy. But it’s not like were really hanging out here sleeping, you coulda slept in your own room.”

With a rough sigh, on the verge of a groan, Cas slams his face into the pillow and mumbles something that Dean can’t make out.

“Yeah I didn’t get that. My RosettaStone package for muffled pillow speak hasn’t come in yet.”

Dishevelled in a way Dean’s never had the privilege to see, Cas pops back up from the pillow and glares at him. 

“What?” Dean rears back. “You mad at me or something?”

“In a manner of speaking. Though my displeasure at your actions, or in this case, inactions, are largely a facet of my own doing. Perhaps this was a bad idea. I actually hadn’t meant to fall asleep. This grace is—”

“—Stop. I don’t wanna get into the whole failing grace issue, okay. Just c’mon, man, out with it already, what the heck is going on?”

“Are you really so dense?” Cas asks him rudely. 

No, Dean thinks. However, I am _certainly_ not ready for this mammoth of a conversation. Then again, is there really any point in beating around the bush any longer?

“It’s not the time,” he says succinctly. 

For a moment, Cas reveals a glimpse of his sudden anger, but it vanishes before Dean can comment. Instead, Cas narrows his blue eyes in a way that promises something to come. 

Dean’s gutter mind teases him that maybe it won’t be some _thing_  that comes but some _one._ Wow, he probably needs to upgrade his porn choices. 

“Ya know Dean, I’m growing impatient. I’m not an idiot. Neither are you. Time _IS_  running out, for me, maybe for you. I want to be positive, but let’s face it, things aren’t looking good. So I’m crossing the line now.”

Dean can’t help but ask, “What line?” 

The question becomes redundant when Cas shuffles over, angrily, might he add, and straddles Dean with a scowl. It’s kind of adorable. 

“Being a bit presumptuous, aren’t we?”

Cas doesn’t hesitate before he bends over and kisses Dean. A hard, ‘I’m-mad-at-you’ kiss, that quickly accelerates into a salacious ode to desperation. 

Breathing heavily, and badly needing a moment to catch up, Dean pushes up on Cas’ shoulders. “Slow down, horndog. Let’s back up a minute.”

Cas sits up and crosses his arms. Naturally, he doesn’t move from his straddled position. It makes a serious conversation nearly impossible. Ya know, with all the erections in the way. 

“We don’t even know what this is, Cas. Our lives are a goddamn mess, and yeah, things are bad, but you kinda just jumped me. Give me a second or two to process here.”

Dean can’t figure out where to put his hands. If he lays them down, they’ll be touching Cas’ thighs, if he spreads them wide, he feels like he’s offering himself… and if he stretches them back, well, that’s a whole ‘nother kind of offer, isn’t it? Not exactly off the table of possibilities. 

“Dean, it’s very simple. Either shut up and give in, or ask me to go. That’s where we’re at. I’m sick of the posturing around each other, the staring, the annoying drag of this incessant human emotion that is slowly driving me insane.”

To Cas’ obvious displeasure, Dean laughs. “Not leaving me much to say here, huh? To take the plunge or not, right?”

“Yes,” Cas agrees. “I recommend plunge, it seems far more satisfying.”

Dean laughs again. “And what about repercussions?”

For the first time, Cas grins, as though he knows he’s being teased now. “Even if there are, we’re likely to die at some point, so any unwanted outcomes won’t bother us for long. Besides, enjoying a long denied want is a damn good way to spend whatever time there is left.”

“Bang a few gongs before the lights go out?” Dean smirks. It’s only when Cas’ eyebrows pinch together in confusion that he remembers it was a different Castiel that uttered the words. Though, considering Cas’ current proposition and, for that matter, physical position, the two versions of the same angel might not be so different after all. 

In a heartbeat, the light banter has lost it’s appeal and Dean knows he’s gotta make a decision. 

“Dean. In or out?” demands Cas. 

A verbal answer to that seems unnecessary. And now, he knows what to do with his hands, which is to bring them to the hem of his shirt and wrestle the t-shirt over his head. Dean tosses it at Castiel’s face. 

“Are you getting naked or throwing dirty laundry at my face?” 

Laughing, Dean shakes his head at Cas. “What do you think?”

Lighting up his face with a broad, crinkly smile, Cas stares down at him. “I think you love me.”

There’s candid, and then there’s Castiel. “You sure about that, huh?” he teases.

“Yes, in fact, I am.”

“You know I’ve only ever said that to like two people in my whole damn life, right?” It’s always been hard for Dean to get those words out. A pattern of death had seemed to follow those he loved and for a long time he thought that if he just ignored how deeply he loved someone, they’d be safe. Even though they never were, the words still scared him. 

“I know. And you don’t even need to say it now. I feel it, Dean. It’s not the words I need from you tonight. It’s everything that defines them. Predominantly… touching, though.”

Dean pulls Cas down until they’re shadowing each others faces, and their lips are close enough to share heat. The breath he can feel expelled into his mouth is the push he needs to say the words. Cas deserves more than his cowardice. 

“I love you,” Dean breathes between them. A fire is lit with his confession, and despite the lack of reciprocation, Cas’ responsive attack is all that Dean wants out of life. Whatever little bit of that he’s got left. 

In the early hours before dawn, they certainly _take the plunge_. The nights’ revelations are not what he’d expected. Not after the strained, taxing mess that’s been their lives for the last several months. All the same, Dean welcomes the breath of fresh air in knowing that no matter what happens, they finally get this. 

It’s towards the lascivious conclusion of the second round of _plunging_ , with Cas perched in his lap rocking back and forth on his cock in slow motions, that Dean’s overload of emotions reduces him to debauched mess of pleas, praises, and a tear or two that manages to escape. 

In the sated afterglow, arms and legs tangled together in physics-defying closeness, Dean repeats himself in soft, sleepy murmurs, “I love you, Cas… love you so much.”

Dean’s already snoring when Cas says it back. The dying angel grins down at the man curled around him, lip trembling with the louder, more disruptive snores. 

“I love you too, Dean. Always have…”


End file.
